


What Blake Really Does

by LittleSweetCheeks



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27125930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/pseuds/LittleSweetCheeks
Summary: Just another day in his bizarre life.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	What Blake Really Does

**Author's Note:**

> One shot, purging my files a bit.

Blake stood in the middle of the Diplomatic Services office, his phone to his ear and four fingers raised, along with his brows, as he waited for a nod. “Yes, four.” He spoke down the line. “Okay… Okay… That might work, hold on.” He twisted the phone back and addressed the man before him. “I can get four seats, front row center, mezzanine for a Thursday show.”

Matt checked his calendar. “The date is good. Are those good seats though?”

The person on the phone spoke and Blake redirected his attention. “Hold on.” He looked back at Matt. “I think they’re best in the house. More leg room, no heads in front of you and a great view without craning your neck.”

“In that case, you have a deal.”

The four fingers turned into a thumbs up and the phone pulled back into place again. “Sounds good, can you email everything to me? Thank you.” He disconnected the line. “I’ll have the details before you make the drive home tonight.”

“Sounds good.” Matt put out his hand to shake. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Blake.”

“I’m sure.” Blake smirked. Of course Matt thought it was a pleasure, he was the one getting theater tickets. “And we’re confirmed now on the OTB in London?”

The bulky agent nodded. “Out and in, ninety minutes.”

Blake’s phone was ringing again, and he turned to leave. “Thank you, Matt!” He stepped into the hall. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“You weren’t at your desk, everything okay?” She didn’t pause for him to answer. “I was thinking about this intel we need. You know, their foreign minister will be in London, do you think we could get my detail to ease the leash enough to get a secret meeting?” He did know that, his anticipation that she would want to take that course of action was why he’d just been where he’d come from.

He sighed, leaning against the wall feeling like he’d just run a marathon. “I’m sure if you butter them up, Ma’am, they’ll be amiable.” He lied through his teeth.

She made a sound he recognized as a small chuckle. “I’ll think of something. Maybe Stevie can make some of those cookies again, I think Matt really liked those last time. I mean, he did let me sneak off with the staff for drinks.”

Blake dropped his head back, gently banging the top of his head on the wall behind him. As if her detail would forgo procedure and protocol for a box of cookies. What his boss didn’t know, however, wasn’t likely to hurt her. “I’m sure that’ll do the trick, Ma’am.”

“Okay. When will you be back?” Her attention shifted.

“Ten minutes or so.” He listened as she muttered something to herself before finally getting a goodbye and hanging up with a sigh. Cookies. She really thought her detail went along with her crazy desires for cookies… Well, they did like the cookies… They also liked the theater tickets and the Nats seats and the million other things he used to lubricate negotiations on her behalf.

Pushing off the wall, he shook his head and checked for the alert that the Wicked tickets had come through.


End file.
